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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28938222">Ewig Dein</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaFK8/pseuds/BeccaFK8'>BeccaFK8</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lord John Series - Diana Gabaldon, Outlander, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:41:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28938222</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccaFK8/pseuds/BeccaFK8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The warm fragrance of Christmas, cloves and oranges in particular, reached John’s nose on a cool night in June as he pulled the Hanoverian Landgrave Stephan von Namtzen into his bed-chamber.</p>
<p>“I was starting to think you had changed your mind,” he muttered against the older man’s chapped lips as he locked the door behind them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lord John Grey &amp; Stephan von Namtzen, Lord John Grey/Stephan von Namtzen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188917</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Governor Tryon's Ball</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The warm fragrance of Christmas, cloves and oranges in particular, reached John’s nose on a cool night in June as he pulled the Hanoverian Landgrave Stephan von Namtzen into his bed-chamber.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>          “I was starting to think you had changed your mind,” he muttered against the older man’s chapped lips as he locked the door behind them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>They had both attended Governor Tryon’s ball in New Bern, unaware the other would be present as well: John as a long-time acquaintance and Stephan as a representative of the House of Hanover who would return to the Old World the next day. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With John’s posting in Jamaica, followed by the subsequent journey to the Colonies to settle his late wife’s affairs, combined with von Namtzen’s own duties to King and Country, the long-time friends had not seen each other in person in several years. While they had kept in touch through letters and sent gifts as a token of their affection, it was little substitute for meeting face to face. Particularly after that one passionate night in London in 1760…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When John had first met Stephan at one of his mother’s musicales in London, he had thought the German to be loud and uncouth. That terrible first impression had gradually shifted when von Namtzen had altruistically aided him not only in a private matter but had also seen to his health when he had been poisoned. By the time they met again in 1757, with John serving as a liaison between the English and Prussian army, the Hanoverian Captain had featured heavily in Grey’s erotic dreams. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>While it was not uncommon for male acquaintances to hug and kiss, Stephan was without a doubt the most affectionate person John had ever met. At the same time, he became convinced that the Landgrave’s touches were significantly prolonged where he was concerned. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Forced by society to hide his own sexual inclinations his entire adult life, John was usually very quick at noticing them in other men. If he were to wager a guess, more than half of the gentlemen in London’s high society were at least open to the idea to lie with someone of their own sex. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then there was Stephan. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A big, ominous question mark.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Despite his affectionate nature, John had thought him a ladies’ man for the longest time. Von Namtzen’s subsequent marriage to Princess Louisa had only corroborated his theory. After his own personal <em>annus horribilis </em> Grey had, however, been forced to question his existimation of Stephan. Granted, he had been bedridden and high on both opium and self-pity for most of the time, but if pressed he would be inclined to amend his assessment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Regardless of John’s sexual attraction to Stephan, their friendship had continued unchanged nonetheless. Grey had expertly suppressed any urges that would have seen the taller man pinned against the next wall to ravish his mouth or bent over a table to fuck him. After James Fraser, he had become an expert in compartmentalising his desires for the sake of a cherished friendship.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides, it was not like John put much faith in love these days. Love equaled pain in his experience, and he had had enough of that to last him a lifetime.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Naturally, all of John’s resolutions were tossed out of the window when he – quite literally – stumbled upon Stephan in London in 1760 and he had not only kissed him but had also invited him to his bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Being the rationalist that he was, Grey had questioned the soundness of his decision later on. Von Namtzen’s faith was as resolute as Fraser’s and having your lover contemplate which priest would be more suitable for confessing his carnal sins to was hardly a sound foundation for a passionate affair let alone a lasting relationship. Not that John had bothered much with the latter ever since the Battle of Culloden. Affairs? Sure. Meaningless sexual encounters in the shadows of the night? Plenty. Proper relationships? Hardly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not wanting to cause Stephan any more moral conflicts, it had only seemed logical to simply ignore the elephant in the room in all future communication and pretend that that night had never happened. Letting go of something so fulfilling after he got a taste of it had not been easy, but their friendship would always take precedence over any sexual gratification. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>John’s silence and affected ignorance had been the result of a week-long discussion within his own head that Stephan had not been privy to. As a result, he should not have been surprised when the German brought up their night of passion in their correspondence. Subtle, in case anyone else would read their letters, but very present in between the lines. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Consequently, John did what any sensible man in his position would do, and continued his silent pining over Fraser while cursing von Namtzen and his exquisite body whenever they made an appearance in his dreams instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They had naturally gravitated towards each other at Tryon’s ball and Grey may have used Stephan as an excuse to avoid overeager, unmarried women once or twice. Isobel’s death was still fresh enough to play the grieving widower-card, but that did not stop the more overzealous type from coy suggestions such as a walk in the gardens for more privacy to the blunter invitations to a lady’s bed. While John generally enjoyed the more relaxed social conventions in the Colonies he could not help but bemoan the demise of proper etiquette the long distance to London’s society had encouraged. At least where the female gender was concerned. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>On second thought, the men were barely any better.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Even when Grey had thought of the Landgrave as a lout, he had struck him as handsome. With his tall and broad stature, he was exactly the kind of man John found attractive. His thick, fair hair that basically begged to run your fingers through it, those kind grey eyes that John could easily get lost in if he was not careful, as well as his strong facial features only supported his appealing looks. With the loss of his left arm, many women would, however, contest that statement. <em> Their loss! </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was a notion that both saddened and infuriated Grey as Stephan may have lost a limb but not his character. He was one of the kindest, most altruistic, and selfless men he had ever met. Then again, the wide berth most women gave him worked in John’s favour as he found refuge at his friend’s side from wanton bachelorettes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had just managed to escape the unwelcome advances of the buxom Lady Geoffrey and had hurried to a nearby table with refreshments to down two glasses of brandy – no bird has ever flown with one wing after all – when the familiar smell of cloves hit his nose and warm breath ghosted over his ear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>          “Wie unangemessen wäre es, wenn ich dich später in deinen Räumlichkeiten aufsuchen würde, John?“ </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Grey sputtered and coughed slightly, putting down his glass with more force than necessary upon hearing van Namtzen’s husky request to seek him out in his own room later that night. Granted, Stephan could simply be talking about a game of chess or cards, but when John turned around and searched those blazing, grey eyes, he was only met with want and desire for a different kind of game. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>          “You’re sure?” Befuddled by the alcohol he had consumed over the course of the evening as well as Stephan’s insinuation, John’s German short-circuited.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I would have asked sooner, mein Freund—” von Namtzen muttered, his English carrying a distinct German accent that many would describe as harsh but that had always sounded melodic in Grey’s ears— “but you went off to get married and I did not want to be indiscreet. If this is too early after… I will take no offense.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Too many questions were swirling around John’s head, but none of them were suitable to be voiced aloud when they could easily be overheard. Instead, he merely shook his head dumbfoundedly, realising moments later that Stephan could misinterpret the gesture, and switched to nodding. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A grin lit up the Landgrave’s features causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle and for two dimples to appear on his cheeks, as he leaned down to whisper a warning into John’s ear: he had overheard Lady Geoffrey badgering one of the maids earlier about the location of Grey’s room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>          “Lock your door. I’ll give it four sharp knocks.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Liar</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>John sat in his room for almost two hours listening for von Namtzen’s signal, stupidly feeling like a bride on her wedding night, awaiting her newlywed husband to take her virginity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The waiting time gave him plenty of time to fret over Stephan’s earlier statement as well as to clean himself up. While John generally preferred to do the fucking these days – one of those lingering aftereffects of his rape so many years ago – he had allowed Stephan to bugger him the last time they had been intimate. After he had managed to calm his initial nerves, he had even enjoyed the experience and had been reminded of his short time with Hector... </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How good it could feel to trust another person implicitly with your body. How his release felt so much more intense when another man claimed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not knowing what Stephan had in mind once he joined him, it had seemed a good use of his time to freshen up. It generally made the whole affair a more pleasant experience for both parties involved. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John had been in the middle of redressing in his breeches and shirt when the doorknob started to wiggle. As there was no accompanying knock, he stayed still and could only imagine that it was Lady Geoffrey trying to get into his bed. The very same place he sat down upon and continued his wait, allowing his mind to return to Stephan’s utterance that he would have called upon John earlier had he not married Isobel. Did that imply he had wanted a repeat of that night in 1760 for more than a decade?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Dear God in Heaven,” he sighed at the implication of that particular thought and leaned against the ornate headboard as his mind pondered if Stephan had slept with other men in the meantime. John certainly had. Inconsequential affairs born out of loneliness and frustration, as well as the foolish notion to ban both Fraser and von Namtzen from his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Funnily enough, the mere idea of someone else claiming Stephan or him buggering another man had Grey’s stomach clench in repulsion. Belatedly and much to his own surprise, John realised that he was jealous – an emotion that had primarily been reserved for Jamie’s wife for the longest time. And yet, here he sat in his bed in Governor Tryon’s house in New Bern, feeling envious of hypothetical men Stephan might have slept with. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or not...</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Grey’s roundabout of troublesome thoughts could spin even more out of control, four sharp knocks at the door jerked him back into the here and now. He jumped to his feet, almost tripping over his shoes by the side of the bed, and hurried across the room. As he fought with the lock he almost cursed Stephan for the bloody advice but then recalled Lady Geoffrey’s earlier attempt to get into his room and quickly pushed aside any misgivings over stubborn locks. It felt like minutes had gone by before the door finally sprung open, when in fact no more than a few seconds had ticked by. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John grabbed Stephan by his waistcoat to pull him in. He had barely closed the door, let alone locked it, when he attacked the other man’s lip to dispel any jealous thoughts and to reclaim his possession over the fellow soldier and gentleman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         "Ich wollte Lady Geoffrey nur ungern in die Arme rennen.“ Stephan cited the ambitious lady as the reason for his delay in between bruising kisses, only for his head to hit the panelled wall behind him with a thump when John moved from his lips to his jaw and neck. Nimble fingers made quick work of the white neckstock and it was only a matter of moments before the silken cloth fell to the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grey bit into the freshly revealed skin, sucking and leaving several marks on the creamy flesh that Stephan would carry with him to the Old World. They would be hidden by a neckerchief, but anyone who dared to remove it would see John’s claim on the Landgrave. A notion that appeased his envy ever so slightly but not enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He made quick work of Stephan’s blue coat, the embroidered waistcoat, and the simple white shirt, before taking a step back to rid himself of his own top. As he had learned that particular night eleven ago, undressing another person with only one hand was more difficult for Stephan, and Grey did not want to waste precious time. They had only so many hours left before they had to appear for breakfast and John wanted to make the most of it with the man who had haunted his dreams for so long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No obligations. Just two men attracted to each other finding pleasure in the other’s body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John’s shirt had barely hit the ever-growing pile of clothing on the parquet when von Namtzen pulled him close again. The taste of brandy mixed with the sweetness of the petit fours served earlier invaded Grey’s mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bristles of Stephan’s perfectly trimmed moustache scratched over John’s sensitive upper lip and he moaned into the kiss when von Namtzen pressed his thigh between his legs offering the perfect pressure on his swelling prick. He stabilised himself with his hands against a muscular chest, his long fingers digging into the flesh with blunt nails. All the while their tongues imitated the act they had last consummated more than a decade ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their hips rutted in synchronicity, hardening erections rubbing against each other in their breeches, as the pent-up frustration of years desiring the other but knowing he was out of reach, was ready to combust. There was no finesse to their movements. Just primitive motions and emotions to reclaim what they had once shared in Stephan’s bedroom in London. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dazed with desire, John could only hope that he would soon get to mark Stephan as his. They had yet to openly talk about what had transpired between them elven years ago and what was about to happen again, and the suspense did little to quell Grey’s jealousy. He was not even sure why he felt so strongly about the issue, but he put it down to the fact that he had been the one who had introduced Stephan to the carnal love between men. He had shown him how all-encompassing such a union could feel regardless of what the Church or the Law thought about it. The knowledge that he had been the first to claim Stephan filled him with a sense of pride and possession that was only increased by the notion that the Landgrave had been the first man in a very long time where John had actually enjoyed being on the receiving end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His rape seemed so far away nowadays, but its ghosts were casting shadows onto his soul to this day. Grey had found it exhilarating when Hector had taken him, yet after his violation, the mere thought had been revolting. Things might have been different if Hector had still been around, but without his grounding nature, John had started to frequent mollie-walks. With enough Dutch courage or the usage of opioids and Anodyne to numb his nerves, he had let the local men fuck him. It had done little to help him feel comfortable with his own sexuality again and had only served as a reminder that he was a broken and sullied thing unworthy of love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only way he had been able to make peace with his own inclinations was to change sides. John had quickly realised that his arousal was significantly higher when the men he bedded were taller and more muscular than himself. The knowledge that he alone could reduce them to a whimpering and begging mess returned the power his assailant had taken from him. With Hector, it had brought him immense gratification to be able to tip him over the edge with the clench of a muscle. Now it was the understanding that with the crook of one, long finger, with one well-aimed thrust he had the most dominant men screaming his name, begging him, and promising to lay the world at his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>During his affair with Percy, Grey had offered his body to him once, but it had brought him little pleasure and had merely reaffirmed his conviction that this chapter of his life was closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That had been before Stephan had come around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, the man’s request had caught him slightly off-guard, and the only reason he had agreed to it was to humour Stephan who had – until then – only slept with women. John had already fucked him, but he was uncertain how von Namtzen felt about it as many men – particularly those who had never been buggered before – believed their masculinity would be diminished. If only they knew how powerful they could be. At least that was how it had always felt for him with Hector. There had been nothing selfish in their lovemaking, only a mutual understanding of reciprocity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As had been the case with Stephan. Much to John’s surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For those two reasons Grey found the mere idea revolting that he had opened von Namtzen to the pleasures that could be found in the male body and had now shared them with someone other than him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “God, I need you,” John panted against Stephan’s chest as he ground his groin against his, while his fingers curled into the sparse chest hair the man grew. “Can I take you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Anything you want.” While von Namtzen’s stump rested against Grey’s side in the semblance of an embrace, his remaining hand had taken hold of his arse, kneading the flesh as he pulled their hips together. He had to let go when John sank to his knees and buried his face in the still clothed crotch, but Stephan’s fingers found their way into his hair instantly, petting him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Bei Gott,” von Namtzen groaned when Grey started to mouth at his length that was straining against the confines of his drawers and breeches. “John…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Speaking of God…” Grey was too much of a rationalist to believe in most of the things the Church preached, but he was aware how important his faith was to Stephan and he would be lying if he said he had not occasionally wondered about Vater Gehring’s reaction to the Landgrave’s confession. “Your letters never mentioned what your priest thought about this.” He had opened Stephan’s flies and was now wiggling a finger in the small space between himself and the erect prick in his other hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Didn’t mention—” The rest of Stephan’s reply was swallowed by a moan when John began caressing his length, spreading the first drops of Cowper’s fluid. Grey’s other hand mimicked the gentle upward and downward motions on von Namtzen’s thighs, pressing butterfly kisses against the tender skin ever so often only to bite him moments later— “Didn’t seem right… t-to denunciate some-something so… beautiful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His last word caused John to look up in surprise while his free hand sought out Stephan’s, interlinking their fingers and giving him a gentle squeeze – a contrast to what his left hand was currently doing to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “So… this doesn’t…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Gott, nein.” Stephan shook his head and closed his eyes, swallowing hard when John let go only to cup his balls and roll them in the palm of his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the Church out of the way, John returned to more important matters at hand. Leaning forward he traced the glistening head with his tongue, tasting the salty drops of fluid emerging from the slit. Twisting his head slightly, he nipped at the frenulum before his lips made their way downwards, mouthing along the pronounced vein running on the underside of Stephan’s prick. He was not overly careful with his teeth and scraped over the sensitive flesh every once in a while, a satisfied grin spreading over his lips when he heard the other man’s breath hitch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he had made his way back to the tip, he guided it into his mouth, relishing in the heavy feel of the length on his tongue. Eager to drive Stephan insane in the most pleasurable way, he only gave him as much time to get accustomed to the wet heat of his mouth as it took John to overcome his gag reflex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Jesus, John!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite not knowing if Stephan had been intimate with another man in the eleven years since they had last shared a bed, Grey was determined to quickly reclaim his territory. He set a quick pace, his eyes constantly locked with von Namtzen’s. For a short while, the only noises in the bed-chamber apart from the fire crackling in the hearth were the slick sounds of John taking Stephan and the Landgrave’s increasingly breathless pants. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His grip on Grey’s hair tightened. Not hard enough to keep John in place against his will, but just on the right side of pain to feel his own erection twitch in the confines of his breeches. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John had always appreciated a beautiful prick and von Namtzen’s was definitely in his personal Top Three. Not only long but also thick, with a slight upward curve when fully erect. The same curve that was now delightfully pressing against his palate as he was taking him deep into his throat. He buried his nose in springy blonde curls while inhaling the familiar scent of cloves mixed with a manly muskiness that had him groan in pleasure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, who was he kidding, Stephan topped his list with a commanding margin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “John…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew Stephan was getting close. Could feel his prick twitching in his mouth as he let it slowly glide out until only the tip remained on his tongue. John hollowed his cheeks and sucked it for good measure, swallowing the heavy drops of Cowper’s fluid leaking out of it, before he allowed it to slip out from between his lips.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he had a looking glass at hand, Grey imagined he had to look rather debauched. Stephan’s grip had loosened more than one thick strand of hair from the neat ponytail they had been tied in. His lips felt swollen and spit had trickled down the side of his mouth when he had sucked the other man off. In addition, a thin string of saliva stretched between the engorged length in front of Grey and his own mouth. Looking up at Stephan with hooded eyes, he gave him a coy smirk as he let his pink tongue slowly trace his darkened lips, separating the last connection he had with his manhood.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “John…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Turn around,” Grey ordered, his voice almost automatically adapting the authoritarian cadence he always had had when addressing his troops. To emphasise his command he gave von Namtzen a smack on his bare thigh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Biting back a strangled groan, Stephan followed the order. Taking a step back, he braced his right hand against the wood panelling while spreading his legs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rather ignorant of his own state of arousal until now, John opened the flies of his breeches and freed himself from their confines, giving himself a few quick tugs that had him close his eyes in pure bliss. It would be so easy to reclaim what was his if he simply rammed his erection into Stephan’s hole. But it would only hurt them both. And regardless of how much he desired the other man and needed to bury his prick deep inside him, he would never want their physical intimacy to harm him. After all, he had first-hand experience what it felt like to be split open dry and completely unprepared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeling Stephan’s gaze on him, he opened his eyes again and automatically caught the other man’s gaze, who had turned his body slightly to have a better view. He was wetting his lips and John wondered if he imagined what it would feel like to have him in his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Von Namtzen had been a novice when it came to sucking off another man the last time they had been intimate. John had not minded being the guinea pig and giving him a few pointers along the way, but there had been no artifice, no teasing, no edging. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Assuming Stephan had slept with other men in the meantime, Grey could not help but wonder if his technique had improved in the meantime. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Like what you see?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Could watch you for the rest of my life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Stay…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John got up to retrieve the small flask of oil he usually carried with him from his saddlebags. He could have taken a carriage and have his belongings brought along in a chest, but he hated to be confined to a rocking coffin on four wheels for weeks when he could easily make the journey on horseback and cut down on travel time. Besides, he had no intentions to stay at Tryon’s any longer than necessary, hence why he had simply shoved a few necessities into his saddlebags and called it a day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the flask in hand and divested of his breeches all together, Grey returned to Stephan. He had heeded his order, but he had gotten naughty and had started fisting his cockstand as he had waited for his return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lost in his own pleasure, von Namtzen never noticed John until he smacked his cheek and pulled Stephan’s right hand away, forcing him to balance his weight with just the remaining stump of his left arm as Grey crowded into him from the back, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Don’t,” John growled and felt his blood rush south when Stephan keened in a mixture of pain and frustration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Take me,” he pleaded breathlessly and brought up his right hand against the wall, once Grey had let go of it again. Instead of following his request, John took his time letting his own prick drag along the length of Stephan’s crack as he rutted into him without ever penetrating him. He could feel the muscles underneath his body work, felt Stephan’s hole contract and relax against the constant pressure of his head. “Please— John…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ignoring the plea, John sank to his knees, put the flask next to him on the wooden floor, and let his hands trail up Stephan’s muscular legs until he reached his arse. An impish smile played around his lips as he leaned forward and bit von Namtzen into the left cheek before he grabbed both globes with his hands to pull them apart and reveal the entrance they were hiding from sight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a moment John simply took in the sight of that furled pink muscle before temptation got the better of him and he licked over it, eliciting a soft moan from Stephan. The familiar taste of potent male musk with a hint of Christmas filled Grey’s mouth once more, lacking the often associated smell and taste of addled eggs when in close proximity to another person’s rear. He had apparently not been the only one to freshen up after dinner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye, he could see Stephan’s right arm flinching as if he was debating if he should reach for his neglected manhood once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Don’t,” John warned him. “I’ll decide when you get to come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ja. Please…” von Namtzen babbled in a mixture of German and English, a sure sign that Grey was slowly driving him mad with pleasure, as he opened him up with his tongue first, before switching to his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only his middle finger at first, slickened by his own spit. Then he reached for the oil and uncorked it with his teeth. Spitting out the cork, John dribbled a few drops onto Stephan’s entrance as well as on his own hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His previous suspicion that von Namtzen may have been intimate with other men since they had last engaged in sexual intercourse was confirmed, when he took two fingers with little effort. John knew from personal experience that regular practise made it easier to relax for penetration. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The natural course of action would be to file away this piece of information and simply continue so he could bugger the Hanoverian before his own prick released prematurely. But John had never been good at letting matters simply rest. Once something caught his interest he was like a bloodhound trailing a scent - part of the reason why Hal often tasked him with solving obscure events or mysterious murders. It was also a point of contention between the brothers when Hal’s own affairs roused John’s interest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Did anyone bugger you since we…?” Some may argue that it was bordering on the side of cruel to interrogate your lover while you pressed your fingers into their prostate, causing their entire body to tremble in pleasure while they bit into the remaining part of their upper left arm to not wake the entire household and alert them to their doing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Gott— John! Nein… N-no… of course not…” von Namtzen was panting heavily. A thin sheen of sweat was covering his pale skin, marked with countless scars obtained in battles and duellos as well as numerous fresh marks left by John. He was hovering on the thin line of release. His legs were shaking with the effort to keep him upright while his engorged prick made little, helpless twitches as it leaked copious amounts of clear fluid onto the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Lügner.” There was no heat behind Grey’s accusation that Stephan was lying to him, merely a statement. When he shook his head in denial, John stimulated him further, unintentionally giving him that last push over the cliff as his climax took hold of him. With his legs finally refusing to keep him upright, he dropped to the ground with Grey’s hands instantly at his hips guiding him down and holding him as he rode out the waves of pleasure. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Paris</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>         “Du bist der personifizierte Teufel,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>[You’re the devil incarnate]</span>
  </em>
  <span> Stephan sighed completely blissed out when he eventually started to come down from his endorphin-induced high and melted into John’s arms who was stroking his coiffed and powdered hair. “But—” He shifted slightly in order to properly see his lover and the</span>
  <span> movement had Grey bite back a groan because he was still very much aroused and his length pressed into von Namtzen’s hip— “You’re mistaken, John.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Stephan began talking about a trip he had taken to Paris several years ago, his lips were gently nipping at his lover’s neck – small reassurances to substantiate his words that John was the only man he had ever been intimate with because he felt no attraction to anyone else. While working his way down to Grey’s chest – dark hair partially hiding the gnarly scars from Krefeld – he explained his longing to feel John move inside him again. He had quickly discovered that his fingers were a poor substitute, but by the time von Namtzen had worked up the nerve to ask him for a repeat of that night in 1760, Grey had married Lady Isobel.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Paris, Stephan’s travel companions had insisted on dragging him to one of the local brothels for some lighthearted evening entertainment. The French were known for their excellent wine as well as their loose morals and variety shows. A combination of all three of them had resulted in Landgrave von Namtzen acquiring a phallus-shaped object made of marble and the Madame of the house had ensured him multiple times that his wife would be in raptures over the addition to their bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Little had she known that Stephan had purchased the dildo for himself. With John beyond his reach, because von Namtzen respected the Sacrament of Marriage too much to proposition a married man, it had seemed like a reasonable purchase. The object's shape and size had reminded him of Grey's member and this way he could at least live out his fantasies in the coldness of his own bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You— you actually liked getting buggered by me?” His own desires momentarily forgotten, John stared at Stephan perplexed. In his experience, men who had only ever been intimate with women were usually not too keen on having a prick up their arse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Don’t get me wrong, John—" von Namtzen chuckled quietly, a playful grin playing around his lips— "I enjoyed taking you, but I may like you inside me even more.” He reached between their bodies and gave Grey’s length a couple of measured strokes as it had started to wilt during their conversation. Under Stephan’s caress, it was quickly back to full form and John had to bite back a moan that threatened to leave his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blunt nails dug into the Landgrave’s pale skin when he voiced his hope for a repeat of the events eleven years ago. “Seeing as we’re finally in the same place again—” Stephan stole a peck from John’s lip— “and more importantly, free from any marital obligations.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Yes— fuck, yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lips clashed in a messy kiss, their limbs entangled as they clung to each other. In the heat of the moment, they toppled over, Stephan pinning Grey to the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Get up—” John panted when they broke apart, their faces mere inches from each other. The cold wooden flooring was a stark contrast to the thin sheen of sweat covering his naked body— “and bend over the bed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regardless of the fact that von Namtzen had reassured him that he did not mind getting buggered, it took Grey by surprise when he sat up hesitantly and inquired almost shyly if he could not take him the other way. The way one would usually bed a woman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sitting up himself and removing the dark ribbon from his hair that had barely been clinging to a few strands, John carefully pointed out that most men found such a position epicene. He carelessly dropped the ribbon on the ground when Stephan quietly reminded him that he had bedded him like that. Almost as an afterthought, he inquired if that was how John had experienced it when they had been intimate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caught off-guard, it took Grey a few moments before he finally shook his head no, his dark blond hair cascading down his shoulders in soft waves. “I felt safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His own sense of security had been the main reason why he had insisted on the position. Based on the few times he had allowed another man to fuck him since his rape, he knew how easy it was to get lost in his mind and find himself back at that dreadful night - especially when he was sober. Furthermore, it had allowed him greater control over the act itself, considering it had been Stephan’s first time with another man and he was not on the small side. Even with careful preparation and plenty of time to get used to the stretch, John had still felt it for days afterward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Then why should I feel emasculated?” Stephan questioned quietly and leaned in to kiss Grey innocently, before rising to his feet. He held out his hand to pull him up and towards the bed that had remained completely virgin of their previous lovemaking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “If it makes you uncomfortable at any point—” John offered as he allowed von Namtzen to drag him onto the mattress, once he had picked up the flask of oil from the ground as they would have more need of it over the course of the remaining hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was something innocent in the way Stephan got comfortable on the bed and automatically spread his legs to accommodate him. His eyes full of trust as he gazed up at him. It reminded John of times long gone by when he had worn a similar look on his face when he had been intimate with Hector. </span>
  <span>The main difference was that his first love had always been gentle with him, whereas John was more on the rougher side. Even now, as Stephan lay completely vulnerable underneath him, part of him needed the reassurance that he was the one in control. Needed to hear the taller man beg, needed to see him writhe in pleasure as he found his own completion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he was reassured that von Namtzen could take him pain-free, he set a grueling pace that was primarily designed to fulfill his own needs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With Stephan’s right hand and the remaining stump of his left arm pinned to the bed, and with one leg over his shoulder to deepen his angle, the man had to take whatever John was willing to give him. Whether it was breathless, open-mouthed kisses, a bite to the erected nubs that were his nipples, or a particularly well-aimed thrust that had von Namtzen press his face into his own arm to stifle any moans that might otherwise waken other occupants nearby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their pants and grunts intermingled with the slapping sound of skin hitting skin, easily drowning out the crackling of the fire that was slowly burning down. At some point, John was almost certain he had heard steps coming towards his bed-chamber, but then simply dismissed it as the blood pounding in his head as he chased his climax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a burning sensation that had started as little hopeful ambers when Stephan had first propositioned him earlier that night and had then gradually built into a fiery ball fed by his lust, his unwarranted jealousy, as well as his yearslong desire for the man moving in complete synchronicity with him. As Grey lost his rhythm it rippled like trails of fire through him. His hips stuttered and he buried himself deep inside the other man. A choked moan left his lips as he spilled his seed deep inside the quivering body beneath him, powerful muscles trying to milk every last drop out of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Spent, John collapsed onto Stephan, lazily mouthing at his throat, barely noticing the half-hard prick poking his belly. Still riding the high of his climax, he could, however, not be bothered by it, although he had half a mind to move out of Stephan and lie down next to him. The bed was big enough to easily accommodate two people, after all, but with von Namtzen’s arms no longer pinned to the mattress, he held John in place instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Resting on Stephan’s body, he could feel the giggle bubbling up in his chest before it left his lips and Grey merely cocked a questioning eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just happy, mein Schatz,” von Namtzen reassured him, his grey eyes radiating with love and joy. “I wasn’t sure we’d ever…” He lifted his head to press a kiss on the crown of John’s head, before bodily flipping them over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A surprised squawk escaped John when he suddenly found himself on the mattress, but it quickly turned into quiet laughter mixing with and joining Stephan’s as he realised that he shared the other man’s sentiment. As desire and ecstasy made way for contentment and happiness, he had to admit that he had not felt so protected, so at peace with the world in a long time. All the worries and responsibilities that usually weighed down on his person seemed far away and he selfishly wished he could stop time to live in this moment forever. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not that it’s ever worked before…</span>
  </em>
  <span> John thought bleakly and the joy he had felt moments earlier was quickly overshadowed by dark specters of his past.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For his tenth birthday, John Grey had received a copy of Antoine Galland's </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Les Milles et Une Nuit’</span>
  </em>
  <span> from his father and he remembered how he had dreamed of owning a magic lamp. His older brother had only laughed at him when he had told him his childish wishes, resulting in the young Grey quickly amending his third wish for a pet snake to </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I wish for Hal to become my pet snake!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> When John had finally returned home after Culloden, the well-read book on his nightstand had caught his eye and he had pressed it to his chest, rubbing the worn leather-cover as if it were a magic lamp itself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I wish to return to Hector’s side!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But life was not a magical fairytale. No matter how much he wanted to stop time to linger in a moment, it steadily ticked away. Very few things in life were certain let alone equal for everyone except for the knowledge that time passed in the same measure regardless of anyone's social standing or the colour of their skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a few hours, Stephan would board the <em>Hampton Court</em> to return to the Old World, while Grey would mount his stallion and start his journey back to Lynchburg. This night would fade and be nothing but a fond memory just like their last night eleven years ago. If destiny had mercy on them and they were both still alive in a decade from now, maybe they could have another repeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Was beschäftigt dich, mein Schatz?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>[What’s on your mind, my dearest?]</span>
  </em>
  <span> Stephan’s concerned voice paired with the calloused hand caressing his cheek brought Grey back to the real world. The taller man still hovered above him, currently carrying his weight on the stump of his left upper arm to not crush him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Nothing— Nichts,” John denied and blinked quickly to rid himself of the tears that had started to build up in his eyes at the idea that he would soon go back to meaningless encounters to fulfill his desires. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Judging by how Stephan pressed his lips together, he did not believe Grey but chose not to call him out on it. Instead, he switched arms and showered John’s face with gentle kisses that had him close his eyes and simply allow himself to be enveloped in the warmth of Stephan’s love. Because that was how he felt: safe and loved. Two emotions he thought he had buried with Hector. </span>
  <span>Closing his eyes, he forced himself to push away any unpleasant thoughts and instead tried to focus solely on the warmth radiating from Stephan. His chapped lips and the bristles of his moustache against his skin as he moved from his face to his neck and chest, caressing every new inch of skin he discovered with soft kisses. The stump of his left arm trailed up and down Grey’s right side in a semblance of one large finger ghosting over his scarred body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aware of Stephan’s initial struggles to accept the loss of his limb not in a heroic fight but due to his own carelessness while out hunting, he welcomed the touch all the more. It spoke of the trust between them and it seemed only natural for John to treat the remaining part of Stephan’s upper arm the same as the rest of him. Sepsis could have taken him, instead, a large portion of the arm had been the prize for his life. </span>
  <span>Trailing his fingers over the stump, John propped himself up on his other elbow and pressed a kiss on the spider web of faded scar tissue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You didn’t come…” The change in position had also made Grey aware of another issue he had neglected so far. Despite his roughness and demanding nature in bed, he generally prided himself on the fact that he was not a selfish lover and took care of his partner. Yet, in his neediness to reclaim Stephan as his own he had only forced an orgasm out of him as a form of punishment. Von Namtzen’s admission had choked Grey’s jealousy like water doused on an open fire, but he had still only been focused on his own pleasure and neglected to guide the man to his own release.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I had other plans in mind,” Stephan waved off his concerns with a smirk before stealing a kiss from Grey’s lips. “That is if you’re up to it, mein Schatz.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Geliebter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please note that this chapter contains larger sections of monologue in German. Constantly tagging dialogues/monologues with "s/he said in " is a personal pet peeve of mine and considering the topic of the chapter as well as the fact that German is my first language, it made more sense to let Stephan speak in his native tongue. I was so bold to assume that the majority of my readers are likely not fluent in the language, so English translations are italicized and in square brackets after each sentence/paragraph. I hope this makes sense for everyone and does not interfere with the reading flow too much.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As much as John disliked the stickiness that came with sex, Stephan had worn him out to the point where he could not care less. Three orgasms in one night while scouting the area with Hector were not a difficult feat. At forty-two he felt well and truly fucked. His prick would probably not be back in working order for a while and considering how tender his arse felt, he already dreaded the many hours he had to spend in a saddle to get back to Mount Josiah. Then again, he had basically told Stephan that he wanted to feel him the entire ride home. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Whenever I move, I want to know that I’m yours.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least for a short while.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>None of that mattered, however, in light of the pet name that had slipped past Stephan’s lips when he had entered him and John had clung to him as his body adjusted to the considerable size of von Namtzen’s length. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Earlier,” John broke the silence that had fallen between them since they had both collapsed completely spent into the rumpled sheets. “You called me </span>
  <em>
    <span>‚mein Geliebter’</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That means </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘my love’</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “It does…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Do you—” John paused, afraid of Stephan’s answer— “love me?” He had had an inkling ever since von Namtzen confessed earlier that he was only attracted to John and that he had missed getting buggered by him. Whenever Grey had caught him looking at him it was as if he was gazing at something precious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was one thing to deny his own desires for Stephan. Disregard them and lock them away to preserve their friendship. But he could not do that with someone else’s feelings, let alone love. John knew better than many that sex without any emotions was fine and dandy, yet it quickly became a gallows in its own right when feelings were added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the sake of his own lust, he had dismissed the look in Stephan’s eyes and convinced himself that it was just the heat of the moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>         “It doesn’t mean anything,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> John had continued to tell himself when von Namtzen held him in his arms as he fell apart and looked at him as if he were his most valued treasure. And was that not what he had called him all this time? </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Mein Schatz.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>My treasure. John could ignore it, act as if it had never happened, but he had done that eleven years ago, and yet here they were. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anxiously waiting for Stephan’s reply, he could hear him taking a deep breath before he felt him nodding against his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ja,” he finally affirmed softly and shifted to prop himself up on his remaining elbow and his stump in order to look John in the eyes. “But before you say anything—” Stephan stopped, letting his head hang low as he was searching for the proper words in English.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, he only groaned in frustration when they eluded him. “I need to say this in German or else… I hope you’ll understand, John.” His lips brushed against Grey’s before he settled down on his side, facing the Englishman. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite von Namtzen’s request, John wanted to say something. Anything. Question the older man’s sanity for falling in love with him. Yell at him for being so foolish to mix pleasure with emotions. But his mind refused to form actual sentences to say aloud and Stephan had a calloused finger gently pressed against his lips, asking him to let him talk as he feared he would lose either his courage or his train of thought otherwise. Or both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Lass mich zuallererst sagen, John, dass ich nicht erwarte, dass du meine Gefühle erwiderst. Es ist mehr als dreizehn Jahre her, dass ich bei einem der Musikabende der Herzoginwitwe deine Bekanntschaft gemacht habe. Wir haben gemeinsam auf dem Schlachtfeld gestanden und hinterher unsere Wunden geleckt. Als Ihre Gnaden, der Herzog von Pardloe, dich nach Waldesruh brachte, damit du wieder genesen und zu Kräften kommen konntest, haben wir unzählige Stunden damit zugebracht über Gott und die Welt zu reden... Manchmal glaube ich, ich weiß mehr über dich als über mich selbst; nur um im nächsten Moment festzustellen, dass du ein Buch mit sieben Siegeln für mich bist.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[Let me start by saying that I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, John. It’s been thirteen years since I met you at one of the Dowager Duchess’ musicales. Since then we fought side by side in battles and took care of each other afterwards. When His Grace, the Duke of Pardloe, brought you to Waldesruh to recuperate, we spent hours talking about everything and nothing... At times I think I know more about you than I know about myself, only to realise moments later that you are a closed book to me.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regardless of John’s frustration over Stephan’s confession, his first instinct was to apologize if his behaviour had hurt him in any way. There were simply chapters in his life he rather buried deep inside himself than share them with anyone else. His efforts to speak up were cut short when von Namtzen shook his head and looked pleadingly at him with those expressive grey eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Es gibt Kapitel in deinem Leben, die für mich fast vollkommen geschwärzt sind. Ihre Gnaden und die Herzoginwitwe haben hier und da Andeutungen gemacht und manch anderes konnte ich zwischen den Zeilen unserer zahllosen Unterhaltungen herauslesen…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>[There are chapters of your life that are blacked out for me. His Grace and the Dowager Duchess insinuated a few things here and and there, and I’ve known you long enough to read between the lines of our countless conversations…] </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had taken the Landgrave years to piece together the puzzle that Lord John Grey was and despite the fact that the man had been frustrating at times, once things had started to fall into place, he began to understand Grey’s reluctance to share certain aspects of his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ich frage nicht nach diesen Momenten in deiner Vergangenheit, weil ich nicht glaube, dass es mir zusteht danach zu bohren, wenn du nicht freiwillig darüber sprechen willst. Aber ich weiß, dass sie dich zu dem Mann gemacht haben, der du heute bist.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[I don’t inquire after these past chapters of your life, because I don’t think it’s my place to ask this from you if you don’t want to share it willingly with me. But I do know that they made you the man you are today.]</span>
  </em>
  <span> Stephan paused for a moment before adding quietly, “Der Mann, in den ich mich verliebt habe.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[The man I fell in love with.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand came up to cup John’s cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles into the smooth skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Du hast deine erste große Liebe bei der Schlacht von Culloden verloren.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[You lost your first love at the Battle of Culloden.] </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was not a question, just a plain statement gleaned from remarks made by the Dowager Duchess, the Duke of Pardloe, as well as conversations with John himself. A sentiment the Landgrave knew all too well as he, too, had to bury his first love. His first wife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Und wenn ich deine Reaktion, als ich dich das erste Mal nehmen wollte, richtig deute… dann hat ein anderer Mann sich an dir vergangen.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[And considering your reaction when I wanted to take you that first time, it’s safe to assume that another man violated you.] </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stephan’s voice wavered with held back rage, yet in contrast to the ire he felt when he thought about what John had to suffer, his thumb continued to caress Grey’s delicate features tenderly. How anyone could dare to violate someone in this manner was beyond his understanding and he had punished more than one man in his own regiment if such a crude act had reached his ear. “Für diesen Drecksack kann ich nur hoffen, dass er mittlerweile in der Hölle schmort, da ich nicht versprechen kann mich wie ein Ehrenmann zu verhalten sollte er mir jemals zwischen die Finger kommen!“ [</span>
  <em>
    <span>I pray that this scumbag rots in hell as I cannot promise to exercise restraint should I ever get my hands on the bastard!]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John considered himself fairly fluent in German, not least because of all the practice he had gotten with Stephan over the years. Every once in a while, the many genders, declinations, and all those exceptions to grammatical rules would throw him off or he would struggle to find the proper word that carried the same subtext as its English equivalent. But even if he spoke not a single word of German, he would have understood the meaning of Stephan’s words as the fire in eyes, his firmly set jaw, as well as the soft tremor running through his fingers resting against John’s cheek spoke loud and clear to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warm sense of safety he had felt earlier returned manifold and brought back long-forgotten memories of Hector stepping up for him. It had been a long time since anyone had done that for him - these days it was usually him using his own title and status to protect others. Yet, many, many years ago, when he was simply Colonel Melton’s baby brother and the fool who disclosed sensitive military information to the Jacobites, Hector had used his own position and standing with the soldiers to shield him from their cruel jokes and their countless teasing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly overwhelmed by emotions, Grey worried his lower lip and rested his own hand over Stephan’s. He gave it a soft squeeze before he removed it from his face only to bring it to his mouth to place a chaste kiss on the other man’s knuckles, faintly tasting himself on his skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Es wird mir auf ewig ein Rätsel bleiben, wie man etwas so Schönes auf eine solch schändliche Art entweihen kann.“ [</span>
  <em>
    <span>It's beyond me how anyone could ever dare to lay a hand on someone so immaculate.]</span>
  </em>
  <span> Stephan muttered and closed his eyes for a moment to cherish the tender kisses John pressed against the top of his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Du hast gezittert wie Espenlaub.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[You were shaking like a leaf.]</span>
  </em>
  <span> He recalled that particular night more than a decade ago when he had poured the oil to prepare John for his prick, only to see the man he held so dearly in his heart tremble like a leaf in the wind. Grey’s breath had hitched, and all colour had drained from his face, reminding Stephan very much of a stallion he had once owned. A beautiful black beast, he had bread himself. Strong, with the most exceptional gates. A graceful dancer in the midst of the chaos of a battlefield. At least until a cannon had exploded right next to it. The horse had been unrideable afterward, almost impossible to handle in even the most mundane situations as the quietest noises had set it off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stephan moved his hand out of John’s gentle grip and let his fingers caress the fair skin of his lover’s face – free from any blemishes unlike the rest of his slim body. Without thinking, he pushed a strand of thick, unruly hair from John’s face. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips over the younger man’s forehead, placing a tender kiss at his widow’s peak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ich weiß, dass dein Herz in diesen Tagen deinem </span>
  <em>
    <span>‚pet Jacobite‘</span>
  </em>
  <span> gehört, wie ihn deine Familie nennt.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[I know your heart belongs to your </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘pet Jacobite’</span>
  <em>
    <span> as your family has dubbed him.]</span>
  </em>
  <span> Von Namtzen continued quietly and John noticed the sad smile that played over his features. He felt his own heart constrict at the knowledge that he may have inadvertently brought Stephan into a similar situation like his own with Jamie: in love with a man whom he could never have. A tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. He was torn between the incredible desire to apologize profusely for bringing Stephan such heartache, while another part of him wanted to scream at him, demanding if he had taken a leave of his senses for foolishly falling in love with someone as broken as him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John remembered all too well the trouble his own feelings had caused in his friendship with Jamie and he would hate to see a repeat with Stephan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That being said, the rationalist in him had to concede that no one – neither man nor woman – had a choice in whom their heart chose.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Es mag anmaßend sein,” Stephan continued quietly, “aber ich glaube, dein Herz hat entschieden einen Mann zu lieben, der dieses Geschenk nie erwidern wird, weil es weniger schmerzhaft ist sich nach einer Fantasie zu verzehren als erneut geliebt und verletzt zu werden.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[It may be presumptuous of me, but I believe your heart decided to love a man who will never reciprocate your feelings because it is less painful to pine for a phantasy than risk getting hurt again.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>John’s breath caught hearing Stephan’s breakdown of his feelings for Jamie and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks because he suddenly felt more laid bare before the other man than he ever would lying naked next to von Namtzen with his bottom and thighs still sticky from his seed. Something that had taken him years to realise let alone admit to himself at least, Stephan had concluded based on seeing him interact with Fraser for a few hours at the Beefsteak Club and the occasional mention of the Scotsman in his letters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ich erwarte nicht, dass du meine Gefühle erwiderst, John.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[I do not expect you to reciprocate my feelings, John.]</span>
  </em>
  <span> Von Namtzen repeated the initial statement with which he had opened his monologue, this time pressing his lips into a thin line, making a grimace that was probably supposed to be a smile but hardly managed to masquerade his own heartbreak. “Aber wenn ich die Wahl habe dir nie mehr nahe sein zu dürfen oder dich nur einmal alle zehn Jahre zu haben, dann würde ich immer letzteres wählen. Denn die Vorstellung dich nie mehr fühlen zu dürfen ist weitaus schmerzhafter als das Wissen, dass dein Herz nie meins sein wird.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[But if I had to choose between having you once every decade or never again, I will always choose the former, because the knowledge of never feeling you again pains me more than the certainty that your heart will never be mine.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John saw Stephan’s Adam’s apple bop up and down as he swallowed heavily, the mark he had left on it earlier starting to darken. Shifting his gaze, he noticed the other man blinking rapidly, his eyes so full of emotions that anything Grey had wanted to say would seem inconsequential. Unable to bear seeing the painful love he had carried for Jamie for the longest time mirrored on Stephan’s face, John closed his eyes and blindly shuffled higher on his pillow to lean his head against Stephan's, their foreheads resting against each other as they shared their breath in silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minutes later von Namtzen moved away from him and rose from the bed. John half expected him to get dressed and return to his own room and this was only confirmed when Stephan bent down to pick up his shirt and shook it out. Feeling the cold – both literally and metaphorically – creeping into his bones at the thought of Stephan leaving, he pulled the sheets up, balling his fists in the soft material, when he realised that von Namtzen may not only walk out of his bed-chamber but his life entirely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure, he had claimed that he rather spent the occasional night with John than let him go, but Grey had slept with enough men to know that hardly anyone was ever so selfish. Stephan had probably only said it in the hopes that John would denounce his feelings for Fraser. But he had not. He had not said a single word since Stephan had stopped talking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not wanting to see von Namtzen walk out of his life, John closed his eyes, barely aware of the single tear that found its way past his lashes and slowly rolled down his cheek. He could hear the continued rustling of clothes, Stephan shaking out more garments – probably his breeches and his coat. It was soon followed by the metal sound of the fire iron brushing against the stone of the hearth when the other man stoked the fire for the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And was that not the sweetest gesture? John had hurt him, very likely even offended him by continuing to hide behind his feelings for a tried traitor instead of denouncing Fraser for the Landgrave. A man of equal standing like his father and his older brother. A man who was addressed as </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Ihre Königliche Hoheit’</span>
  </em>
  <span> <em>[Your Royal Highness] </em>by his own people and who held imperial immediacy. But despite the affront, Stephan still made sure he would not be cold during this chill June night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John only opened his eyes, when he felt the mattress dip, and Stephan’s large, calloused hand cupped his cheek. It was just in time to see the other man lean in and kiss away the tear that had escaped his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Mein Geliebter… das Letzte was ich wollte, war dich mit Gram zu erfüllen.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[My love… the last thing I wanted was to hurt you.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite John’s fluency in German, Stephan’s words made no sense at all. Neither did the fact that he was still stark naked, all of his clothes placed neatly on top of Grey’s where he had hung his coat, waistcoat, stocking, and neckerchief over the back of a chair earlier. In addition, his own breeches and drawers had been carefully folded and put on the seat of the very same chair. As if that was not reason for enough confusion, all the candles had been doused, safe for the two on either side of the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I-I— I thought you were leaving,” John blurted out, looking dumbfoundedly at Stephan who looked slightly taken aback but did not retract his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Do— do you want me to, John?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “No!” His hand came up and squeezed von Namtzen’s before putting it in his lap, both of his hands holding onto it tightly. “I just thought that…” Grey quickly turned his head away to avoid Stephan seeing the tangle of emotions bubbling up in him: relief that he was not leaving, but also an immense sense of foolishness for ever doubting Stephan’s words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hidden underneath these two feelings was the slowly growing realisation that losing Stephan would hurt more than losing a friend or a lover. It would hurt like...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You’ll always have my friendship, John, for as long as you’ll want it. My love for you isn’t bound to that promise.” Von Namtzen’s words were underlined by freeing his hand from Grey’s grasp, only to put two fingers underneath his chin in order to gently turn his face towards him again. He offered him a small but sincere smile before he leaned in and brushed his lips against John’s. There was nothing wild or passionate about the kiss, just a reassurance about his own feelings and the silent promise that John would always be in charge of the direction their friendship would take.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Stay?... Please?” John asked softly once they broke the kiss.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “That was my intention, mein Schatz. We’ve still got a few hours left before I have to sneak back into my room or I’ll risk running into Governor Tryon. Or worse... Lady Geoffrey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “We can always claim you fell asleep over a game of chess,” Grey offered with a weak grin and lifted the sheets enough for Stephan to climb underneath them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I guess we could,” von Namtzen shrugged and pulled John towards him to allow the younger man to rest his head on his chest. His arm was wrapped tightly around the smaller body, and he felt content when Grey draped a leg and an arm possessively over him, basically pinning him to the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not much time had passed, and John could feel Stephan’s breath evening out, while the occasional snore found its way past his slightly parted lips. Grey, however, remained wide awake, his mind still too hung up on Stephan’s confession to calm down enough to allow sleep to overtake him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- MEIN SCHATZ/MY TREASURE: John uses a very literal translation for that pet name, more appropriate would be 'my dearest' or - if you are Gollum - 'my precious'.</p><p>- IHRE KÖNIGLICHE HOHEIT/YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS: I took slight liberties with history here, as it was only around the turn of the century that landgraves would gain that particular form of address.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fair Winds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Breakfast the following morning was a dreadful affair if one asked Lord John. The chair was hardly comfortable after taking Stephan mere hours ago and to top it off, he was functioning on less than an hour of sleep. Unlike von Namtzen he had lain awake most of the night contemplating the consequences of his love confession. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shortly before the Landgrave had gotten up to return to his own room to avoid suspicion, John had finally drifted off only to rouse again when his pillow – Stephan – vanished. Sleep had mostly evaded him afterward, and in the end, he had simply gotten up as well. After a quick wash, he had gotten dressed and combed the entire room for his ribbon to tie back his hair before realising that Stephan had picked it up earlier and placed it on the desk on top of the book John had brought along. Once he deemed himself presentable for polite company, he tried to kill time until it was a fashionable hour to arrive for breakfast by reading the next chapter in his French novel. With his barely existent love life currently resembling more of a tragicomedy than a steamy affair, John had to reread each page twice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without his novel to divert his thoughts at least somewhat, John’s mind quickly returned to dissecting more important topics at hand than polite small talk with Governor Tryon and the remaining guests who had stayed the night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John was vaguely aware of Tryon badgering Stephan about his connections with members of the House of Hanover as well as the House of Hohenzollern, something he had done most of the previous night, too, when other guests had not demanded his attention. Lady Geoffrey and some of the other guests weighed in on occasion as well, but Grey hardly paid them any attention at all. His mind kept wandering back to Stephan and how he basically found himself in the middle of a love triangle where each party was condemned to be hurt. Well, maybe not every party... He was fairly certain Jamie could not care less about any dalliances he had with Stephan, seeing as Fraser’s feelings had never ventured beyond friendship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thoughts of the Scotsman also brought something to mind Claire had stated when Grey bid his farewell to the Ridge after recovering from the measles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had long accepted that he would never have a sappy happily-ever-after with Jamie because the man did not share his inclinations and was above all madly in love with his wife. Moreover, Stephan had not been wrong in his assessment that John primarily hid behind his want for Fraser these days, because it was easier to pine after the stubborn Scotsman than to love someone openly and risk getting hurt by that person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The question that remained was if he could trust Stephan not only with his body but also with his tattered and scarred heart. Could he put so much faith in the other man and his feelings towards him that he could let go of the Fraser-sized shield he had erected around his heart? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cherry on top of John’s dilemma-flavoured cake was naturally Claire and her declaration not to lose hope. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You, too, deserve to have the look of satisfaction on your face.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Well, how on Earth was he supposed to know if he wore that particular look on his face around von Namtzen? It was not like he made a habit of carrying around a looking glass and if anything, Stephan would only think him vain if he constantly checked his reflection. Asking Tyron or anyone else for that matter was out of the question as well unless he wanted both their necks in the noose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John doubted that that would bring either of them much satisfaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As much as he had come to appreciate his friendship with Jamie’s wife and she had quickly become his go-to person for any medical-related issues, her advice on matters of the heart needed some improvement. After all, he could hardly invite himself and Stephan to Fraser’s Ridge just so she could tell him if he appeared satisfied around the Landgrave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You’re glaring at your breakfast, John, as if it has personally offended you.” Stephan’s gentle teasing snapped him out of his spiralling thoughts. Startled, John almost knocked over his cup of hot chocolate only to drop half of his cutlery onto the floor in his attempt to save the table from any chocolaty floods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Argh, verdammte Scheiße!” he cursed under his breath in German and prayed no one had witnessed the mishap. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he reappeared from underneath the table with his renegade silverware at hand, he noticed that everyone else had finished their breakfast, while his own plate was still filled with eggs, sausages, mushrooms, beans, black pudding, fish, and tomatoes. Lost in his own head for most of the breakfast, he had merely poked around in his food without eating a single bite to the point where it had gone cold by now. Even Stephan’s plate had been finished off, despite the fact that the Landgrave nurtured a notorious dislike for a proper English breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>According to him the sausages were substandard compared to their German counterparts and Stephan’s personal pet peeve was black pudding. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Warum zur Hölle nennt ihr Blutwurst ‚Pudding‘? Was daran hat irgendwas mit Pudding zu tun, John? Ich hatte mich auf eine Süßspeise zum Frühstück gefreut und jetzt erwartest du, dass ich geronnenes Blut zu meiner heißen Schokolade esse? Und ihr wundert euch, dass es anderen Regimentern davor graust in England stationiert zu werden…“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>[Why in God’s name, John, would you call blood sausage black pudding? How is that even remotely related to pudding? I was looking forward to some sweet dessert for my breakfast and now you expect to eat gore with my hot chocolate? And you seriously wonder why other regiments dread the idea to be stationed in England…]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After thirteen years of listening to his complaints about the English cuisine – not completely unfound in John’s eyes as he himself had developed a fondness for German sausages, bread, and beer — Grey was fairly certain that Stephan primarily did it to tease him these days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Sorry, I… my mind was somewhere else. It’s been a… short night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “But you’ve retired so early, Lord John,” Lady Geoffrey declared and leaned towards John. He was relieved that she was sitting opposite and not next to him or else she would have definitely grabbed his hand. As it was, the table decoration offered enough shielding from encroaching, overeager women. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I… I must have eaten something with raspberries last night. I never feel quite like myself afterward.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pulled a face as if she was hard-pressed to believe him, but before she had the chance to press the matter further, Tryon’s narcissism came to Grey’s rescue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ah, I have the same trouble with shellfish. Nasty side effects, but they taste too good to give up on them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Yes. Exactly, Your Excellency.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I thought I heard some noises from your room last night,” Lady Geoffrey mentioned seemingly in passing, but the look she shot Grey made it very clear that she did not believe his raspberry-story. It did not help that Stephan chose this exact moment to choke on his water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Nasty side effects, as His Excellency already said.” John gave her his most affected smile, generally reserved for people he could not care less about. With a small wave of his hand, he ordered one of the servants to clear away his plate. “As it was, the Landgrave was so kind to offer me his aid and company.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Von Namtzen had thankfully recovered quickly from his initial shock that Lady Geoffrey might have overheard them. Unlike Grey, he never had to come up with some false excuses on the spot before to avoid being labelled a sodomite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Thankfully I have plenty of experience tending to his Lordship.” He dabbed his mouth with a white serviette. “The Duke of Pardloe entrusted me with the care of his younger brother after the Schlacht bei Krefeld.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ah, yes! The famous ‘Hero of Krefeld’!” Tyron exclaimed excitedly and started to recount that old tale in case anyone had not seen the countless newspapers with their exaggerated narration of the chain of events thirteen years ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grey was as embarrassed by them now as he had back then, but instead of Lady Geoffrey further questioning his early disappearance, she and several other ladies were now hanging onto every word Tyron spoke while swooning over John’s heroic action.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shot Stephan a glare across the table that hopefully conveyed his crossness. Von Namtzen could not have followed up his lie with a better excuse than this old wives’ tale?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The slobbering over his person eventually stopped and the dreadful small talk continued, but Grey made it a point to be a more active participant in the conversation. Nonetheless, he still felt Stephan’s questioning gaze upon him the entire time, wordlessly inquiring after his emotional welfare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their rescue finally arrived in the form of Wilhelm, who was the Landgrave’s trusted butler and had been among the entourage accompanying him to the Colonies. He had come to retrieve von Namtzen to ensure he would make it to the ship in time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I shall accompany you down to the harbour, Stephan, and then get on my journey to Lynchburg.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had taken almost another hour till their departure, partially because Grey’s saddlebags still needed to be packed and his horse had to be tacked up, but also due to the fact that Tryon kept on delaying them with his last-minute requests of Stephan. When they finally sat in the Landgrave’s carriage – the seats nice and soft – heading towards the harbour while one of his servants brought along John’s horse, von Namtzen breathed a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ich dachte schon er würde uns nie gehen lassen!“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[I thought he’d never let us go!]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Gleichfalls,“ Grey shared the sentiment. “But that’s Tryon for you. He likes to surround himself with powerful men. I’m fairly certain it’s to compensate for the fact that he has to rely on his mother’s father’s relation to have any sort of influence at court.” His dry assessment of the governor was based on their previous acquaintanceship as well as the fact that Tryon had been glowering at him whenever he had used Stephan’s Christian name because the Landgrave had never given the Governor the same permission and as a result, he had to defer to the proper form of address for a man of Stephan’s social status.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You are a wicked man, John!” von Namtzen barked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I blame the terrible influence of my sister-in-law.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Landgrave wiped away a tear that had escaped him in his delight, but then grew serious again, scrutinizing John to the point that he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and breathed a sigh of relief when Stephan finally broke the imploring eye contact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Don’t…” Grey pled quietly and picked a few dust particles from the tricorn hat in his lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I never meant to hurt you, John.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You didn’t. You just—” he paused for a moment looking out the window at the elegant brick stone buildings moving past them, gradually getting replaced by simpler, wooden structures as they neared the harbour of New Bern. “You just gave me a lot to think about… because of what you said about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “It was never my intention to upset you, mein Freund. Or offend you…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “No, it’s— it just brought back to mind something a friend of mine said, and…” John trailed off when Stephan leaned forward to grasp one of his hands in his own and gave it a soft squeeze before lifting it to his mouth and brushing his lips over his knuckles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You don’t have to explain yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “No… You— you deserve to know the whole story. It’s just that— I’ve never really talked about it. No one really knows it. Not even Hal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I’ll listen,” Stephan promised quietly and intertwined his fingers with John’s. “If that’s what you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “It’s too long and complicated to tell in passing…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The carriage had stopped, and von Namtzen let go of Grey’s hand just in time for Wilhelm to open the door. He handed a small package to the Landgrave that smelled suspiciously of the deliciously German smoked sausages that John loved and that reminded his stomach strongly of the fact that it had not been fed today. A matter he chose to ignore for the moment to listen to Wilhelm who informed the Landgrave that he would see to the luggage being loaded on board of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hampton Court</span>
  </em>
  <span> which was due to leave the harbour of New Bern in less than an hour. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through the open coach door, their little bubble gained a small window into the buzzing beehive that was New Bern Harbour. Men were shouting in various languages, horses were neighing, and caskets of wine, brandy, and whisky were shuffled around. The delicious smells of spices from India and Asia mixed with the foul odour of rotting fish and faeces. John leaned forward in his seat to get a better view of the proceedings outside, but he merely caught a glimpse of the ship's hulk. His attention returned to Stephan when he asked his butler for a few more moments with Grey and then closed the door again, ensconcing them once more in the privacy of the coach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Then I’ll look forward to hearing the story another time if you still want to share it then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Actually… I was thinking…” John bit his lip and fidgeted with his tricorn, as he began to voice the idea he had concocted during breakfast when he had pretended to listen attentively to the nonsensical small talk. “William will sail to London on 15 August to start school at Eton in autumn. I’ve already bought two passages, but I had intended to send the Governess with him. It would, however, be more sensible if I accompanied him. I am his father after all…” Grey realised he was rambling when he caught the amused look flashing over Stephan’s face. “What I’m saying is that I could travel to Schloss Erd once William’s settled. That is if you want me to…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You’ll always be welcome in my home, John,” Stephan reassured him. “But as chance would have it, I planned on being in London myself in fall as my first grandchild is due in November. Send a messenger to Audley House once Master William has settled at Eton, will you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family life, Stephan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “You won’t. Besides, I insist that you do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Well, if you insist!” John chuckled. Then, on impulse, he bridged the gap between von Namtzen and himself and stole a kiss from him. His tricorn fell off his lap in the process and onto the floor of the carriage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they eventually separated, they stayed close, their noses almost touching as Grey sought out Stephan’s gaze, hoping he could see the promise in his eyes that he tried to convey with his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Let’s figure us out, when we’re in London, okay?” This would hopefully give him enough time to sort out both his thoughts and his feelings on the matter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I look forward to it.” Stephan cupped John’s cheek and pulled him close to brush his lips against Grey’s. Sharing a breath, von Namtzen reminded him that he was in charge. He was sure of his feelings, but the decision to take their friendship a step further lay solely in John’s hand. “Ich liebe dich, John. Ob als Freund oder Geliebter liegt in deiner Hand.” <em>[I love you, John. Whether it is as a friend or a lover is up to you.]</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Grey pressed his lips against Stephan’s - both a reassurance for himself that he would not lose his friendship regardless of his decision and a promise to von Namtzen that he believed his words. Trusted him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were interrupted when Wilhelm opened the carriage’s door with a dash to remind the Landgrave that he really needed to hurry lest the ship would leave the harbour without him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John felt the heat rise to his cheeks that Stephan’s butler had just witnessed them kissing, but the man was completely unperturbed. After all, it was not uncommon for his employer to be overtly affectionate with people he held dear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “I’m afraid this is goodbye for now, John, or else Wilhelm will drag me on broad by the ear like a disobedient </span>
  <span>Lausbub</span>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “We wouldn’t want that,” Grey chuckled and put on his hat before following Stephan out of the coach. The driver had taken them almost all the way to the quay where the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hampton Court</span>
  </em>
  <span> was berthed. Sailors were hurrying past them as they loaded the last shipments on board, yelling at each other in the process.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Before I forget…” Stephan held out the small package Wilhelm had given him a few moments ago. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Brotzeit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or rather your breakfast so you won’t fall off your horse. There are a German baker and an Austrian butcher in town,” the Landgrave explained while John carefully opened the package to reveal at least half a loaf of sourdough bread, as well as four pairs of smoked sausage and a good piece of smoked bacon. “It’s pretty good, considering we’re thousands of miles from home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Stephan, you really shouldn’t have—!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Can’t have you starve on your journey to Virginia.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Thank you.” That warm sense of safety he had felt during the night when Stephan had taken care of him took hold of John again and he wished he could hug von Namtzen, maybe even kiss him to convey his gratefulness – not only for the food but also his patience and his friendship. But they were far from the privacy a bedroom or even the coach offered, so John had to behave with decorum. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The food would not have cost the Landgrave much, but the gesture spoke volumes: not only had he taken into consideration that John had not eaten anything at breakfast but also that he had planned on heading towards Virginia right after seeing him off. Sure, he could have simply bought the next edible-looking thing he came across as he rode out of town, but Stephan had gotten him things he loved. And missed about Germany. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carefully wrapping up the food again, he stowed it away in one of his saddlebags, as Wilhelm had brought him his horse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bidding farewell to Stephan was a short affair. John bowed as was conform with etiquette, but once he had straightened up again, von Namtzen threw decorum overboard and pulled him into a tight hug and kissed him on both cheeks. John got a last whiff of that clove scent he had come to associate with Stephan and savoured its sweetness and warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ich erwarte deine Nachricht, John.”<em> [I await your letter, John.]</em> He whispered into his ear, his own tricorn almost knocking off Grey’s. Once von Namtzen had pulled away, he bowed and then hurried to the ship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither man was overly fond of farewells, but after everything that had transpired last night, it was particularly difficult to part ways now. Besides, John was not keen on breaking out into tears at the quay like a lady prone to hysterics in one of those sappy romance novels his sister-in-law had always lying around. And if he had shed a tear when Wilhelm had given him a helping hand to get onto his horse, then it really was von Namtzen’s fault to begin with for dragging all those feelings into their friendship when he knew that they would be parted by an entire ocean only a few hours later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John sat atop his grey stallion, the twinge in his backside soon the only reminder of last night, as he watched Stephan make his way onboard the ship. With the departure of the ship nearing, the crowd on the quay started to thin and John could easily make out Wilhelm as he made his way up to him and bowed, before inquiring if the food selection was to his liking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Natürlich, Wilhelm. Ich habe Ihnen dafür zu danken?“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[Of course, Wilhelm. I have to thank you for the food?]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Ich bin nur dem Wunsch des Herrn Grafen nachgekommen, Milord. Aber in diesem Falle dürft Ihr in etwa einem Monat eine Wurstlieferung erwarten. Der Metzger ist instruiert und bereits alles bezahlt.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[I only followed His Grace’s wishes, milord. You may also want to expect a larger delivery of various sausages in about a month. The butcher has been advised and paid.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Wilhelm…“ John wanted to tell the butler that this was hardly necessary, but he knew the man had merely followed Stephan’s orders and the Landgrave was already on board of the ship, leaning against the railing and waving in his direction with his tricorne. For a moment Grey contemplated if there were any military hand gestures for </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’re a sap! You don’t need to send me German sausages all the way to Virginia!’</span>
  </em>
  <span> and only lifted his own hat in the end. “Passen Sie mir bitte gut auf den Herrn Grafen auf, Wilhelm.“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>[Please take good care of His Grace, Wilhelm.]</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>         “Selbstverständlich, Milord.“ The butler promised to look after the Landgrave and bowed as he bid his own farewell, wishing Grey a pleasant ride. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shifting in his saddle to find a slightly more comfortable position, John watched the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hampton Court</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting ready for its sea voyage home, contemplating the happenings of the past couple of hours.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Allowing their friendship to evolve past a few stolen moments every decade would hardly be smooth sailing. For once, Stephan had never been in love with a man before and was likely blindsided by his feelings. Grey doubted he fully understood the restrictions a sodomitical relationship had to endure to ensure neither partner would be hanged for his crime of simply loving another person. As far as the public was concerned, they could never be more than two fellow widowers who found company in their friendship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In addition, an ocean separated them. As Landgrave and Captain of his own regiment, Stephan had obligations and could not simply uproot his entire life and emigrate to the Colonies. While John had retired from military life and was more flexible these days, he was currently administering his late wife’s estate - at least until William had decided if he wanted to keep it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How sensible was it to love someone when you could only be together in the privacy of your own bedroom once or twice a year? Was that truly more fulfilling than the occasional affair with a meaningless stranger?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lastly, there were Grey’s own demons, nurtured by Hector’s death, his rape, Percy’s betrayal, his unrequited feelings for Jamie, and so much more. After his near-scandal with George Everett that had brought him to Ardsmuir Prison, he had made it a point to lock them away and to never let them see the light of the day again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If John had taken away one thing from his messy affair with Percy, it was that his own silence about certain chapters of his past had contributed to how things had ended. Not keen on a repeat of the events, he would have to lay his cards – all of them – on the table and hope that the truth would not change Stephan’s feelings. In the end, it all boiled down to the question of whether he was willing to move on from his feelings for Jamie in the process to open his heart for Stephan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As the wind billowed in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hampton Court</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s sails and von Namtzen’s figure on deck of the ship became smaller and smaller until he was just a dark blob in the distance, Grey forced himself to push away these thoughts and focus on the warmth and safety Stephan inspired in him instead. The trust he had in him and the patience he had with him despite his shortcomings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A wave of giddiness washed over John and an enthusiastic smile played on his lips at the thought that in two months he, too, would sail to London. To Stephan.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>“Fair winds and a following sea…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>My love.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks to everyone who took the time out of their day to read this little story, left comments and kudos - I appreciated them all :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/beccafk8">Stay in touch!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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